Seconds.
That’s all it takes to have everything ripped away from you.
No one knows this better than Adam Beckerson and River Ahlers.
Each is fighting a losing battle with the death of Bobby and the fallout
it causes. Adam loses a brother; River her best friend.
And while Adam finds himself fading into the bottom of a bottle, River
finds the only thing she can do is run away from everything-- including Adam.
Faded
Perfection $0.99
Amazon ~ Kobo ~ iTunes
~ Google Play ~ B&N
Flawed Perfection FREE
About Faded Perfection:
"Cassandra Giovanni captured my heart."
"Faded Perfection is an excruciating masterpiece"
"I think I spent most of the book not breathing. The emotions were too strong, my chest was tight and I just couldn't breath"
About Flawed Perfection:
"Flawed Perfection is a five ++ star read"
"OMG I'm emotionally drained, the heartache!"
"I was emotionally drained and loved every minute of it."
Excerpt One
Someone had to do this, and it sure as hell wasn't
going to be Adam. I breathed in and closed my eyes, only opening them as I
exhaled and put one foot in front of the other. The key was hot from the heat
of my body as it shook its way into the door knob. The metal clunked, and the
wooden door swung open, leaving me staring at the empty room once filled with
happiness. My eyes rushed over it as my mind flashed with memories, and my feet
somehow continued in--all the way to Bobby's bedroom door. My chest constricted
and stars popped in my vision as I swung it open. I found myself blinking
rapidly as my eyes wandered the room, stopping on the dresser where frames
contained pictures of Adam and me, Bobby and me, the three of us, and then Tara
and Bobby. My feet yet again propelled me forward, but I stopped as I breathed
in, choking on the air.
My body warmed as my chin trembled and I breathed
in again.
There it was again.
Bobby. The room smelled like him.
My eyelashes fluttered against my cheeks as the
scent encircled me. Bath and Body Works' Twilight Woods. The cologne we picked
together when we were twelve. For fifteen years he'd worn it, even after Tara
told him she hated it.
My eyes opened and
moved to the hockey jersey hanging half out of a drawer--exactly where he left
it that morning. My knees shook, and I found myself sitting on the bed staring
at it. I reached forward, and the worn fabric embraced me as I brought it up to
my chest. I pursed my lips together as the tears gathered and I pulled the
jersey over my head, engulfing myself in his scent--it was embedded into this
clothes despite constant washing. In my memories, his laughter carried through
the room. It wasn't the first time I wore one of his jerseys. I closed my eyes
and curled into a ball on his bed.
"So you
remember it too?" Bobby's voice reached my ears, and the darkness behind
my lids drifted away, parting until it was him and me in the tree house. I sat
up on the bed, looking at him as he smirked at me from the edge of it.
"See the thing is, I imagined it like this--you know? You practically
naked;" his teeth ran over his bottom lip as his eyes ran up my legs,
barely covered by my sleeping shorts. "in my jersey."
He moved forward and
his hand cupped my chin as his thumb caught a tear. "You weren't crying in
my fantasies, though. You cry so much now, Riv. I don't want you to cry."
I closed my eyes as
my vision blurred from the weight of them, burdened by the false warmth of his
touch.
"I've lost
myself just as much as I've lost you," I whispered, trying to memorize the
feeling of his soft hands against my skin. So caring and loving when everything
seemed so cold now. "All my dreams are shattered without you."
Bobby's hands
reached for my face, turning it, so I was looking at him. He was beginning to
waiver in and out, and panic burned its way up my throat.
He was going to
leave.
But this was so
real.
"Please don't
leave," I said, and the tears and clenching of my throat made the words as
physically painful as they were emotional.
"I thought all
my dreams shattered when I found out Adam was with you--and it was over for
me--that I didn't have any more chances. My dreams realigned, though, Riv--they
changed, refit into even better dreams. I expect you to do the same," he
said, and he was fading faster; his body just a wisp and his touch a mere
warmth with nothing substantial behind it.
"But
Adam--"
"You'll figure
out what to do, it might be hard, but in the end, it will work out. You and him
are what's left of me. Remember that. Together you make me whole," he
said, and his lips reached for my cheek, sending heat through my body as he
disappeared.
"Bobby!" I
yelled, and suddenly I was sitting straight up in the bed sobbing, the warmth
of his lips against my cheek a stinging pain. I leaned back, pulling my knees
to my chest and cried until the darkness consumed me.
This time, Bobby's
warmth didn't return.
Excerpt Two
West's lips parted, but he seemed at a loss for
words. "You can't not have friends-- you're so--"
"Nice, but driven and being driven tends to drive
people away. In college I drove away all my friends by the
end...except..." My voice faded, and I swallowed, glancing out at the
dimly lit yard.
West reached across the table and put his hand over
mine. "The tattoo?"
I bit my lip nodding.
He squeezed my hand and leaned back, his thumb
drawing soft circles over my skin. "What about family? In my experience,
they're kind of hard to drive away."
I scoffed, shaking my head as I looked down at our
hands. "I see my dad once a week-- he comes up on Saturdays, and we spend
the day watching TV, having dinner and talking."
"That sounds nice--so why do you seem so angry
about it?" West's voice was soft, his words said slowly, as if he was
afraid to insult me.
I fought the urge to stand up and sit in his
lap--to be in the warmth his smile sent me-- to be wrapped in his natural
happiness.
"My dad comes secretly. My mom and I... I'm
not on good terms with her. I guess we were never on good terms but last year
on Thanksgiving she crossed a line and I haven't been able to get passed
it," I said, and my eyes moved up his hand to his arm spiraling with color
--waves, koi fish, lotus and cherry blossoms. Mom would die if she saw him. If
I was skanky, he was an absolute man-slut.
Jesse did say he's a womanizer. And you're a
man-eater.
"Doesn't agree with your choices?" West
asked as he lifted his wine up to his thin, very kissable lips.
My chest rose as I nodded.
"Well, let's say you'd probably go into shock
if you met my family-- blue collar, nose in the air, house on the vineyard
people. Very un-tattooed."
"And how do they take to--" I signaled to
his arm and collarbone, my pulse hitching as he winked at me.
"You haven't even seen them all," he
replied, and his eyes locked on mine, devious in their twinkle as if he knew I
wanted to know where the others were. As if to say it's only a matter of time.
I swallowed hard, looking down at my pasta.
"Let's just say they got used to it...and my
mom tries to think of it as art--my dad tries to think of it as proving I have
a high pain tolerance and a talent with my hands."
My eyes shot up at that, and he leaned back
laughing. My face burned, and my mind raced to places it should definitely not
be.
"Do you now?" I managed to stutter.
Flirt. You're such a damn flirt.
I wasn't sure if I was chastising him or myself in
my head--or worse, neither.
He reached across the table and flipped my arm,
running his fingertips up to the tattoo he gave me and traced its outline. The
tingling started from somewhere other than my arm, and I bit hard on my cheek
as he sat back, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Yeah," I
said as I leaned forward and grabbed my glass of wine. "You're talented
alright."
Cassandra doesn’t remember a time when she wasn’t writing. In fact, the first time she was published was when she was seven years old and won a contest to be published in an American Girl Doll novel. Since then Cassandra has written more novels than she can count and put just as many in the circular bin. Her personal goal with her writing is to show the reader the character’s stories through their dialogue and actions instead of just telling the reader what is happening. Besides being a writer, Cassandra is a professional photographer known for her automotive, nature and architectural shots. She is happily married to the man of her dreams and they live in the rolling hills of New England with their dogs, Bubski and Kanga.
Cassandra Giovanni is published by Show n’ot Tell Publishing based out of Connecticut, USA
Connect with Cassandra on Facebook, Goodreads and Twitter. Learn more about her and her novels at her website, www.cgiovanniauthor.com and read the first ten chapters of each of her published novels through her Book Catalog.
Love Exactly
Walking in the Shadows
No comments:
Post a Comment